By Basil Fernando –

Basil Fernando
The deaths that have occurred over the past three days inside Negombo Prison have made headlines around the world. The exact number of those killed remains uncertain; as of this morning, reports suggest over 20 fatalities, with hundreds more injured.
This statement does not aim to examine the incident in detail, as the facts have not yet fully emerged. Instead, we address one of Sri Lanka’s most fundamental and long-standing issues: the protection of prisons and prisoners. Sri Lanka has one of the worst records in this regard globally, and successive governments have made little effort to address it.
We are not focusing solely on the present government’s responsibility, but rather on the obligations of the Sri Lankan state as a whole. This crisis has persisted for decades, making it far larger than any single horrific event. That broader context is crucial, as we may be confronting a profound problem tied to the nature of the Sri Lankan state – its past and its future.
In the wake of recent killings, any government and state in which such events occur must meet several obligations. First, it must review whether it has a comprehensive strategy for the protection of prisons and prisoners. If no such policy exists, or if it once existed but collapsed amid decades of violence and was never restored, then urgent action is needed.
The situation in Sri Lanka can be summed up in the famous nursery rhyme:
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.
The collapse of the Sri Lankan state over the last 40 years is of that magnitude, and nearly everyone acknowledges it. Yet this very admission often leads to paralysis—the problem seems so immense that it is allowed to be ignored. But as the Negombo incident and many earlier, even more horrific events show, such problems cannot be overlooked.
Sri Lanka is internationally known as a place where people are killed after arrest. The number of such deaths runs into the thousands, and neither Sri Lankan intellectuals nor the international community have made any serious attempt to address the issue. Perhaps this is because the prison system’s failure is merely one facet of the state’s broader collapse, making it seem impossible to tackle in isolation.
Whatever the reason, we are now facing the loss of human lives in a place meant to offer protection. In these circumstances, the Sri Lankan state has clear obligations, and their implementation now rests with the current government. The swiftest expected response would be for the government, on behalf of the state, to disclose its comprehensive plan for prison and prisoner protection. If no such plan exists, urgent action is needed to address a problem that has recurrently manifested itself.
When natural disasters strike, we mobilize every available resource, including communities, to develop a response. Yet no recent government has made similar efforts regarding prison and prisoner protection.
Second, we must ask whether Sri Lanka is descending into increasing anarchy and potential state failure. If so, solutions must be sought with far greater seriousness – for the survival of the state, the survival of communities, and above all, the protection of people. Even foreign investors and others will only be drawn to the country if order and security prevail.
This is a major calamity. In the face of such crises, those responsible should act as they would during natural disasters – not merely to downplay the situation, but to find lasting solutions. At present, it appears that no meaningful ideas exist for protecting prisons, prisoners, or even prison guards and staff.
One of society’s key protective institutions has now shown itself incapable of fulfilling that role. The prison system is fundamental to the modern protection mechanism. If it fails, other institutions falter too. The judiciary cannot function properly under the law if the prison system is unreliable – or worse, dangerous.
Another obligation is toward the public. Under these conditions, who would willingly enter prison? When the judiciary orders someone detained, it implicitly assumes a duty to protect them. Yet that duty risks becoming merely formal, impossible to implement because the very institutions meant to provide protection have collapsed.
Therefore, we offer the following practical suggestions: First, the government, on behalf of the Sri Lankan state, should clearly articulate a comprehensive policy for prison and prisoner protection. Second, there should be a full, open, and inclusive public debate to holistically understand what has occurred and address the issue before it is too late.
Finally, Sri Lanka has international obligations, having signed numerous treaties and agreements that emphasize the protection of prisoners and prison authorities. One viable path forward is to appeal to the United Nations and other bodies for assistance in developing a comprehensive strategy for Sri Lanka’s prison system.
If we fail in this, that failure will reverberate even more drastically in the years to come. We hope everything possible will be done to prevent such an outcome.